Spice interrupts Yamcha and Bulma's embrace by descending upon them with vengeful intent.
"Bulma, take Puar," Yamcha says. "I'm going to finish things with this guy."
"Are you sure? Maybe we should run," says Bulma.
Yamcha's eyes narrow in a focused fury on the approaching enemy.
"Yeah, I got this. Just make sure you guys stay back, okay?"
Bulma scoops up a barely conscious Puar and hurries away. Yamcha walks to meet the Makyan.
"You're of awfully eager to die," says Spice. "You couldn't beat me before, and now you've lost the increase from the Makyo Star."
"I don't need to rely on a crutch like that," says Yamcha. "But I will thank it for one thing. It brought out all the energy I was holding back much faster than I can on my own."
"You're bluffing," says Spice. "I don't sense any more power from you than before."
"I'll let my fists do the talking," Yamcha says.
He readies his stance.
Spice does the same. He begins to step in place while raising his arms like a boxer. He throws a straight right punch, a hooking left, two alternating straight punches followed by a right hook. Yamcha swiftly stays out of range of each one.
They square off again. Spice stares jadedly into Yamcha's smirking face.
"Alright then," says Yamcha, "try and keep up with this."
A gust of wind ruffles through his clothes starting with his ankles and running up to his shoulders. He hunches back on his left leg allowing the other to slide forward fully extended. His fingers curl above their palms, facing Spice.
Yamcha leaps silently forward. He moves with such grace his feet barely touch the ground. He shifts left and right to keep his prey guessing. He raises his hands. Spice follows the motion with his eyes raising his own to guard.
Yamcha sees the movement and swings a leg from low to high. His foot slides in under his adversary's forearms. The ball of his foot drives into the bottom of the Makyan's ribs. Spice falls back, and Yamcha swarms him with strikes from his hands.
The bite of each one feels like the snapping jaws of a rabid animal. Yamcha ends the barrage by simultaneously slamming his wrists together and shoving his palms against the same place between Spice's chest and stomach where the earlier kick landed. The pointy eared man hurtles backward from the blow.
Spice manages to land on his feet. They slide to a stop, and he grabs at the place that took the blow.
"Where…" he says. He coughs and gasps for air. "Where is your power coming from? I don't sense any selfish desire in your mind."
"You've obviously never fought for anyone besides yourself and your own needs. My courage comes from the heart to protect those I care about," says Yamcha.
In Yamcha's eyes, where the violet intrusion of the Makyo Star used to be, Spice sees the white spark of Yamcha's resolve. He shivers under the intensity of the stare. For a moment he can almost feel this strange power the man speaks of.
"That's nonsense," says Spice
He lets both his palms face each other in front of his abdomen. Purple lightning crackles from each one meeting in the middle.
"People can only succeed by rallying behind the strongest individual who can move them towards their goal."
A crimson sphere forms between his hands as the lightning dances across its surface.
"You take the most rewarding rank under their command and follow them until that position no longer serves your needs. Then you join another side."
He raises his hands above his head. A fiery pink aura erupts around the crimson center. It burns with a ghastly light.
"And stopping to help the weak along the way will only destroy you!"
He throws his hands forward. Yamcha easily hops aside. As he does, he traces the path the attack will take with his eyes and realizes the blast is not meant for him.
It rushes past him. He breaks into a run just behind it. He and the deadly orb race towards Bulma and Puar who are too slow to react. Only keeping pace with the red death ball is not enough. He pulls from deeper within himself to move faster.
His lungs and heart burn with the effort to supply his muscles with enough oxygen. His legs grow in weight as they rise in pain to maintain the output. The ki he knows he needs to defend against the attack drains away as he pumps it into the feat of reaching his loved ones first.
He runs up behind it, runs alongside it. They are neck and neck two yards away from the woman and cat. Unable to visualize the full speed of the incoming objects, Bulma sees a brief scene of Yamcha's face. Sweat mats his hair against his cheeks and throat. His eyes are glued to the corners of their socket as he tries to overtake the ki attack. Then everything is obscured in a bright flash and smothering heat.
…
Garlic stands with his hands outstretched to the sky. Kami floats behind him.
"Did you retrieve the Dragon Ball?" says Garlic.
Nicky and Sansho drop down from above and land on one knee. They bow their heads. Nicky reaches out an arm holding the jewel. Garlic grabs it up with both hands. He holds it aloft and admires it. The ball flashes yellow.
"Excellent work," Garlic says. His fangs are on full display. His breaths come out as suppressed laughter. "It will be a lovely surprise for our people when they arrive to find their former master waiting for them. Remind me to properly congratulate Ginger for discovering such an incredible gift."
Nicky and Sansho twist their heads slightly and stretch their eyes to look at one another.
"Where is he anyway?" says Garlic, still ogling the orb.
"Master," says Nicky. "Ginger has been slain in battle."
Garlic's eyes sink back into their sockets. His breathing returns to normal. He lowers his hands and head. Nicky and Sansho drop theirs lower.
"We lost Ginger?" Garlic says.
He clenches his teeth. His left fang does not close into his mouth. Instead it punctures his bottom lip. Despite the pain and the blood beginning to trickle down, he does not loosen his jaw.
"Then he died for a worthy cause," Garlic says, finally releasing the bite. He licks away the blood. "He will be missed. Come, we have a wish to make."
The gremlin turns silently and walks towards the entrance to the throne room with an unwilling Kami following. Nicky and Sansho rise to go after them. They look at one another one more time. As the group steps up into the entryway, Garlic stops. His minions almost run into him.
"It seems you've been followed by uninvited guests," says their Master.
Nicky sniffs the air and turns around.
"Ah yes, I remember this fear," Nicky says. "It smells like piss."
"But how did they track us?" says Sansho. "We were miles ahead of them."
"It doesn't matter," Nicky says. "We can avenge Ginger sooner than expected."
"Good. I'll leave them to you," says Garlic.
Garlic proceeds into the dark hall while Nicky and Ginger stand guard. They see dots on the horizon moving in fast.
"The short bald one is no threat at all," says Nicky. "I want you to finish him quickly. I'll fight the other two."
"Are you sure my Vizier?" says Sansho.
"Yes. If for some reason I do need help, you'll be done in plenty of time."
They prepare to battle in the dimming light of the eclipse.
Garlic carries the Four Star Dragon Ball with outstretched arms. Its pulsing yellow light increases in frequency as he gets closer to the other six sitting by his throne. He pays no attention to the boy shaking the bars of his tiny cage.
Eager to make his wish, he levitates the six jewels to meet him well before reaching the steps to the throne. They float over to him and touch the ground as he sets down the one in his hand. They all pulsate in unison at his feet.
He holds his hands over them as if they are a campfire. He inhales deeply to command the creature the orbs are said to summon. The muffled cries of Kami murmur behind him. The struggle delights him.
Movement to his right deflates his moment of triumph. His head turns and his pointed ears tilt back like a startled animal. They return to their upright position when he realizes who it is.
"Oh, it's you Spice," says Garlic. "You're just in time. You of all people should be here when I bring my father back."
Spice steps out of the shadows to the dimly lit center next to his master.
"You seem tense," Garlic says. "There's no reason to be afraid of him. You served my father loyally during his campaign of Earth. And releasing him from his multi-century imprisonment will only further his trust in you.
"And me if I'm being honest. I understand your hesitation. I haven't seen him in so many years I'm nervous to meet him after all this time. I even worry he might think me a coward who needs him to finish this job. Like I can't do it on my own."
"Of course you can," says Spice. "You've done splendid in his absence. And your father will be proud of all you've accomplished. He will reward us greatly for this act. Now let's summon this dragon."
"Yes, of course," says Garlic. "What was I so worried about? How foolish of me."
He clears his throat.
"Eternal Dragon, I beseech you. Arise and grant my wish."
The orbs glow one last time but do not fade back to normal. Instead they grow brighter than ever before. The light forces him to look away as a gale of wind blows past him. Spice covers his face with his forearms to shield himself from the sudden gust and blinding illumination.
A golden ray streaks straight up out of the orbs in a jagged lightning bolt. It plows through the ceiling three stories up. The material is instantly disintegrated by the magical energy allowing no debris to fall from the gaping hole.
Black clouds radiate outward from where the lightning touches the sky hundreds of miles above the castle. The atmosphere darkens to nearly the horizon in all directions.
The streak of lightning begins to widen and take a serpentine shape. A black form emerges in the center, growing with the divine electricity. The golden light weaves itself around the entire citadel. Glowing red eyes open and the shadowy figure turns green.
A colossal dragon now warps its long, slender body around the fortress. Its coils make arches of indecipherable pathways in the sky. It squints its deep red eyes through the whole in the ceiling.
Garlic can barely see all of the dragon's head through the destroyed roof. The mythical beast opens its mouth. A thunderous voice shakes Garlic's castle.
"I AM THE ETERNAL DRAGON. STATE YOUR WISH SO THAT I MAY GRANT IT."
Garlic stares up mesmerized. He finally opens his mouth to speak, but it is not his voice he hears.
"I wish for Goku to be brought back to life!"
Garlic whips his head to face Spice who uttered the words in voice not his own. His subordinate is nowhere to be seen. Instead he finds a pig in suspenders among a cloud of smoke with a raised fist. Garlic turns back to the dragon. Its eyes begin to glow with even greater intensity than they already do before returning back to their normal piercing gaze.
"YOUR WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED. DO NOT DISTURB MY SLUMBER AGAIN."
"No dragon, that's not my wish," says Garlic.
He raises an arm as the magical creature begins to fade back into energy.
"Wait dragon."
His voice quivers.
"I wish to bring my father back. I wish my father was here."
The jewels he worked so hard to collect rise off the ground in front of him. He reaches for them, but they give off a heat threatening to peel the skin from his bones.
They shoot through the open expanse in the ceiling. The electricity that used to be the dragon discharges through the sky until it is gone. Upon reaching the apex of their ascent miles above the compound, the Dragon Balls fire off like meteors across the sky in different directions.
Garlic drops to his knees and presses his palms just below his thumbs into his eyes.
Oolong wastes no time moving towards the throne. Hanging from one of the many spikes protruding from it is a rusty ring with keys dangling from it. He yanks it from the chair and moves to the cage Gohan is in. The child watches him fumble with the keys trying to find one that fits the lock. Gohan recalls a name from the stories his father told him.
"Wow Oolong that was amazing," says Gohan.
"Don't thank me yet kid," Oolong says. "We're not out of the woods. I was expecting your dad to appear here and save our bacon, but that didn't work."
He finally unhooks the lock. The pig grabs Gohan by the wrist and drags him out of the cage. Before he can get far, he sees Garlic aiming a ki blast at them.
"I'm going to pull you apart one ligament at a time for what you've done," says Garlic.
His voice is shrill, almost shrieking. His eyes have become bloodshot around the edges.
Before he can fire the blast, Kami steps between him and his target.
"Piccolo?" says Gohan.
"Run along you two," says Kami. "I'll handle Garlic."
"Come on Gohan," says Oolong, scampering off pulling the kid by the arm.
"But what about Piccolo?" says Gohan. "We need to stay and help him."
"That's not Piccolo, and I'm not staying, especially to help a demon. I've done more than my fair share today. I'm get'n outta here," says Oolong.
"No it's Piccolo," says Gohan.
He points enthusiastically. Oolong follows the gesture. Striding toward them from the darkness of the poorly illuminated room is the reincarnation of the Demon King.
"This is worse than my greatest nightmare," Oolong says.
"Move along Gohan," says Piccolo.
His voice is flat. The weighted clothing is still missing, the damage to the rest of his outfit still visible. He continues approaching Garlic with his eyes never deviating even as he passes the boy.
"I have some unfinished business with that little devil."
"Ah Piccolo," says Garlic. "I knew your heart had softened. What makes that little brat so special I wonder."
"I'm not here for the boy. He's a ticking time bomb who doesn't need my help. If anything, I'm saving you from him."
"Oh really. That boy barely had an ounce of selfishness in his heart. So pardon me if I have more than a few doubts."
Piccolo stops next to Kami who gives him a look.
"I never thought I'd be happy to see you," says the Guardian.
"Heh, I wouldn't even be here if you'd been strong enough to do your job right," says Piccolo. "Now stand aside. I'll take care of this."
"Don't be so sure," says Kami. "He may not appear so fearsome now, but there is a terrible power lurking below the surface. And I know you're not showing it, but I can tell you're not in the best health either. You'll need my help."
"Just stay out of my way," says Piccolo. "You've messed things up enough with your approach."
"I didn't expect to get involved directly. I know I'd just be in the way. I was planning on transferring some of my remaining ki to you. I doubt you're even aware we have such an ability given your selfish, loner attitude."
"I can barely stand being next to you. The feeling of your energy mingling with mine would just make me want to puke."
"Hmph. Fine. I wasn't looking forward to the experience either."
"Ah how sweet," says Garlic. "Two soul mates finally reunited. Maybe you can make peace with one another before I kill you both. I've got a lot of anger to vent, and I'm not sure two of you will be enough to fully take it all out on."
A dark aura billows out of Garlic's short body. He crouches and clenches his fists. A low growl gargles in his throat. The air around him intensifies as a blackish green haze. The same color begins to take over his skin starting from his back and spreading to his chest and arms. It crawls over the top and sides of his head. His pudgy arms and torso begin to develop greater and greater muscular features.
Peeking through the hole made by the dragon is the forlorn sun less than a half exposed behind the Makyo Star.
Author's Note 05/21/20: I've been so busy lately between life and trying to keep up with this story that I've forgotten to check in with my readers. So I just wanted to say thank you all for reading. It really does mean a lot to me to know other people are having fun with project alongside me. I hope you're all doing well and staying safe.